


Centenary

by Flamebyrd



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Immortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:23:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamebyrd/pseuds/Flamebyrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers Tower is a national icon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Centenary

**Author's Note:**

> This is gen, but it's a very cuddly sort of gen.

The elevator is starting to squeak again. Natasha makes a mental note to have that seen to as soon as possible.  

"Any messages, JARVIS?" she asks, strolling into the living area.

"One from the heritage council." Natasha rolls her eyes in anticipation of the rest of the statement. "They have refused our renovation request."

"Of course they have," she murmurs. Because the Avengers Tower was a national icon, and retrofitting a nutrition synthesizer in the kitchen would somehow sully it, despite the fact that the man who built it would have rather died than have thirty year old tech in his home.

Bruce looks up from the living room table and gives her a wry smile. "I'll get Phil to look at the paperwork again tomorrow. I'm sure they'll see reason. We're heroes." He pauses. "Maybe we can get Steve to sign it."

She nods, lips twitching into a smile. Captain America's name still carries weight in this century. If the application is rejected a second time, they'll just send him in person.

The screen in the living room is muted, but she can tell what the coverage is about from the banners lining the empty stage. "What time does the ceremony kick off?"

"Speeches at 19, fireworks at 22," says Bruce. "Steve is scheduled for 1945."

"Hard to believe it's been a hundred years," she says, more for something to say than any agreement with the sentiment. Time passes, even if the years don't show their mark on her body.

"Not really," says Bruce. He has a screen full of numbers in front of him but he's looking out the window, leg twitching under the table restlessly.

She sits next to him, touching his thigh gently to still it. He leans in towards her and takes his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes.

Steve goes to the Battle of New York ceremony every year. SHIELD hasn't existed for sixty years, but the organizers invited Phil to speak anyway, and in Thor's absence, Sif agreed to take his place at the ceremony.

That leaves Bruce and Natasha, who hadn't been fans of the media a century ago and don't see why they should change now.

The ceremony goes smoothly. Steve gives the speech that he and Phil wrote the night before, curled up together on their sagging old sofa.

"Wow," Phil had said, eyes shining. "I can't believe I get to be Captain America's speech writer. Sir, this is an honour I've dreamed of since I was a boy.'"

Steve had just laughed and punched him in the shoulder affectionately.

Phil talks about the history of the Avengers Initiative and Nick Fury's vision of them. He doesn't mention his own role in bringing them together.

Sif doesn't so much give a speech as ramble about bravery and honour for three minutes, but she seems to win over the crowd anyway. Natasha breathes a silent sigh of relief.

When Thor returned to Asgard and Sif volunteered herself as replacement in the Avengers, there had been some friction between her and Natasha. It seemed neither Asgardians or Steve Rogers were always comfortable with the things Natasha would do to ensure the victory of her side, but with time they'd worn themselves into a comfortable partnership.

The three of them get back to the tower about half an hour later.

"Not staying for the fireworks?" asks Natasha, getting up from the couch and stretching her seized muscles.

"Nah," says Steve. "You get a better view from up here."

"I think the Midgardians appreciated my speech," says Sif. She sounds pleased with herself. "But I would much rather observe the celebrations with my team."

"Sounds good to me," says Natasha.

Sif loves fireworks, probably the best of all of them. When the first goes off - electronic, now, no risk of fires and the effects are even more impressive, even if the sound is fake - she leads the charge to the penthouse balcony. They don't stand close enough to touch, quite, but Natasha can feel the warmth of Steve and Bruce at her back; Phil by her left side and Sif by her right.

"We kept her safe a century," says Phil.

Steve nods. "Let's try for another one."

**Author's Note:**

>  **Quettalinde** suggested Immortal!Coulson for this trope (as a side effect of how he came back), and then I started thinking about how _else_ could reasonably be extrapolated to have immortality, and then I decided to write a 100-years-later fic, and I work in a heritage-listed building, and... well, here we are.
> 
> I tried to keep the feeling positive, but with the subject matter it was a bit hard. RIP Tony and Clint.


End file.
